


Dirty, Nasty, Hot

by rubberupandmakeitstarker



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Diapers, Embarrassment, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Piss Fetish, Shame, Watersports, Wetting, public urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 14:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17346911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberupandmakeitstarker/pseuds/rubberupandmakeitstarker
Summary: Peter has a fetish. A fetish that has haunted him for the entirety of his pubescent years, lurking in the back of his mind. It’s something the he feels ashamed of, something that he wishes would just go away, so that he could be a normal teenage boy who likes to jerk off and be done with it.It’s pissing. His kink is pissing. In inappropriate places.





	Dirty, Nasty, Hot

Peter has a fetish. A fetish that has haunted him for the entirety of his pubescent years, lurking in the back of his mind. It’s something the he feels ashamed of, something that he wishes would just go away, so that he could be a normal teenage boy who likes to jerk off and be done with it.

It’s pissing. His kink is pissing. In inappropriate places.

At first, he is satisfied with just pissing on himself in the shower. Even though peeing in the shower is something that most people do without a second thought, Peter would sit on the shower floor, away from the insistent spray of water, and pee over his stomach, his chest, his thighs. He loved how the liquid would run down his skin, quickly going cold when Peter finished and promptly started stroking his resulting erection. Once he spent and watched the mix of yellow and white rush down the drain, Peter would scrub mercilessly at his skin, desperate to get rid of any evidence of what he’d done.

After that stops giving him the rush he needs, he moves on to something else. Something naughtier. Something riskier. He took to pissing in water bottles, waiting until his bladder was bursting before he would hurriedly pull out his cock and direct it into the mouth of the empty bottle. Once full and hot in his hand, Peter could barely wait to twist a cap on before he started jerking himself off, emptying the bottle into the toilet once he’s done. He hid the used plastic in the dumpster outside of the apartment, heart thudding with shame.

Sometimes, when he’s feeling brave, he creeps into the ally beside his apartment and pisses on the side of the building. The fear of getting caught is half of the thrill, the other half being that of the sound of his piss hitting the brick wall. Late at night, his dick in his hand where anyone could walk by and see him, the wet splatter is almost deafening, and he feels like every whoosh of his breath as he reaches a climax afterward will get him caught. He always feels the worst after this, knowing that not only has he just gotten off to expelling his own waste, but that he has soiled someone else’s property, knowledge that was driving his arousal only seconds before.

The most reliable way he has found so far to satisfy his fetish, though, is… diapers. He has to swing into the next town to buy them so that he isn’t recognized, and he has to throw them into the dumpster outside after Aunt May goes to bed, but it is… so nice.

Sometimes he simply wears them after dark, holding his pee until he physically can’t anymore, and urine goes spilling into the diaper with a loud hiss. Then it is easy to roll over onto his stomach, his cock hard and wet, and rut himself into the sloppy warmth until he comes. Peeling it off afterwards is an act of torture, looking at the mess that he willingly crates for his own pleasure.

His favorite thing to do with them, though, is to place the diaper on the floor, point his dick directly into it, and watch the material swell up as it takes all that Peter has to give. This is sometimes difficult, as Peter is almost always hard by the time he is set up and it is difficult to aim. But he manages, gently forcing his erection down and trying not to let anything splatter onto the floor as he empties his bladder, and subsequently blows a load.

But even that isn’t enough after a while. Peter wants to piss on the carpet, on the couch, on his clothes. The idea of it has hot fuzz building in his stomach. But he can’t do that, there’s too much of a risk he could be caught.

Then he starts dating Tony.

At which point Peter tries to fully eradicate the kink from his mind. There is no way on this earth that Tony can ever, ever find out about this, or he might be so repulsed that he doesn’t want to date Peter anymore.

But he can only deny himself for a few months. Long enough to really get in deep with Tony. Fall in love. Move in. Long enough that he starts instinctively holding it for too long even though he knows he shouldn’t, waiting until the last second to trot away to the bathroom, pee, and immediately jerk himself off into the toilet, shame eating him up as soon as he flushes away the evidence.

Tony is only made aware that this happening when, despite his better judgement, Peter tries to hold it through an entire social event that he needs to attend with Tony. Between the drinks and hours-long interviews with no bathroom breaks, he is about to burst by the time he falls into the passenger seat of Tony’s car.

Tony notices Peter squirming as they peel out onto the interstate, looking at him with quirked brows. “Everything okay?”

“Ah, yeah, just… gotta pee.”

Tony makes a soft noise of concern. “Can you hold it? There’s nowhere to stop before we get home, and it’s nearly an hour drive. We can turn around and run you back inside if you need to?”

Peter shakes his head. He’s held it for longer in more dire situations, this shouldn’t be a problem. “No, I’m fine, let’s just get home…”

He had no idea how hot it would be for Tony to know that he is holding it. He is thankful for Tony seeming to keep his eyes glued to the road for Peter’s sake, not wanting to add any attention to the fact that each passing minute has Peter twisting a little tighter where he sits.

When Tony suddenly has to brake for a car in front of them, it sends Peter jerking forward against his seatbelt, and his blood runs cold when he hears a short, panicked whimper escape him. He sees Peter’s hands shoot into his lap out of the corner of his eye, and he peeks at the time on his watch.

Peter squeezes his cock closed, equal parts mortified and turned on at the fact that he has just dribbled a bit of pee into his underwear. The faintest patch of dark appears on the expensive slacks Tony bought him, and Peter swallows. “How far are we?”

“Twenty minutes.” Tony says softly.

Fuck. Peter wasn’t expecting to be this desperate this soon. It hurts, and he’s not sure if he can hold it for another minute, much less long enough to get home. “I… I can’t hold it that long.”

Tony purses his lips, racking his brain for a solution. They are in the middle of traffic, there is no way to let Peter out of the car to relieve himself. Peter whimpers to his right, and Tony is shrugging off his blazer and handing it to Peter as the approach a red light. “Here.”

Peter stares down at the garment. “You don’t have to let me use this to cover up with. If I… go on myself, I can just run inside.”

“No,” Tony says dryly. “You can… go in my coat, and that way you won’t have to wet yourself.”

Peter feels faint. He is about to piss on a blazer that costs more than his life, right here in front of Tony. Peter swallows thickly, shaking hands unzipping his pants and pulling out his hard cock. He is so full that he is dribbling as soon as his dick meets the air, and Peter quickly crumples up the fabric and directs his cock into it.

Peter piss hisses obscenely. Tony can’t help but peek at Peter, blinking in disbelief at the fact that Peter is hard. He looks at Peter’s face, watching himself soak Tony’s coat with rapt interest, lip caught between his teeth. When the stream diminishes and finally stops, Tony watches Peter stroke the final few drops out, continuing to touch himself for a little too long after. A horn honking behind them has them both startling, and Tony resumes driving when he realizes the light is green.

The rest of the trip is silent, and after arriving home, Tony immediately suggests a shower. Peter complies, and they stand silently under the stream of water.

“Thanks for letting me…” Peter starts.

“Not a problem.” Tony finishes.

Peter is quickly growing hard thinking about what just happened, and he tries to casually cover himself.

“Why are you hiding from me?” Tony coos softly, shooing Peter’s hands away and running his fingers over the heated skin.

Peter sighs quietly. “S’just, y’know, after that you don’t have to… touch me.”

“But I want to touch you.” Tony says honestly, wrapping his fingers around Peter’s length.

Peter’s teeth clench at how shockingly good this feels. He’s already so close, the memory of ruining Tony’s jacket so fresh on his mind. He whimpers quietly when Tony’s pace quickens. “I’m… I’m not gonna last very long…”

Tony chuckles as he moves into Peter’s space, kissing as his jaw. “That’s fine. Finish whenever you need to.”

—

The next time Peter gets himself into trouble is after a mission. He normally doesn’t risk holding it when he is fighting, for the sake of those he is protecting, but this mission isn’t supposed to be very stressful or difficult. Peter suits up on a semi-full bladder, ready to easily kick butt, go home, piss, and have awesome post-battle sex with his boyfriend while riding the high.

Nearly two hours of strenuous fighting later, in which he has to call in Tony for backup, Peter is really regretting his choice. He stands in an ally after the threat has been taken care of, thoroughly panicking. There is no way he can go here, there are people everywhere. But he’s waited so long that he is afraid of even taking a step or webbing away, lest he lose control of his bladder in his millions-of-dollars suit. As much as the idea of ruining such an expensive piece of work excites him, he knows how much work Tony put into it, and he isn’t willing to wreck it.

Tony, though, noticed that Peter was in a state as soon as he showed up to help. He’s been keeping a closer eye on the boy’s toileting habits, and it didn’t take long to realize that he holds it for way too long. He’s good at hiding his desperation, but Tony could tell by the way he moved while fighting that he was really feeling it. Tony lands beside Peter in the ally, letting his face plate shrink back. “Ready to go home?”

Peter swallows, trying not to make it obvious his legs are squeezed together. “I, ah, yeah, you want to meet me there?”

“Everything okay?” Tony asks, eying Peter’s stiff body.

“Yeah, just…” Peter squirms, looking out of the ally at the people who have gathered to clean up the mess. “I really need to pee, and I… don’t think I’ll make it home.”

“Oh.” Tony says softly. The embarrassment in Peter’s voice betrays the erection printing through his suit. “You wanna web over to the gas station a couple blocks over?”

Peter shakes his head tightly. “I… I don’t think I can move.”

“ _Oh_. Here.” Tony grabs Peter under his arms and flies him out of the ally, quickly finding a secluded rooftop to land on. He looks around to make sure there are no prying eyes, and helps Peter take off his suit, starting with his mask.

“What if someone sees me?” Peter asks quietly, as if his cock isn’t leaking precum at the thought of someone catching him pissing on the roof.

Tony shrugs, tugging the shoulders of Peter’s suit down and freeing Peter’s body from their restraint. “Superheroes have to pee, too.”

“Public urination is illegal, even for superheroes.” Peter mumbles.

“Well, then, I’ll pay the fines.” Tony says. He realizes too late that he doesn’t actually have to help Peter push down the fabric of his underwear or take hold of his hard cock to direct him to the concrete roof, but he’s here now, feeling as natural as ever. Peter is already leaking, and Tony murmurs, “You’re good, go ahead.”

Peter allows himself to let go, his piss arching high because of his erection. He feels almost faint with arousal, leaning back into Tony’s chest as his body empties. The loud splashing of liquid on concrete has Peter biting his lip, and he almost cries out when he finishes and Tony strokes the last few drops out of him. He can’t contain a sharp gasp, his hands squeezing into fists when Tony doesn’t stop the movements.

He has almost decided to simply jerk Peter off right here when Tony gets a call, sighing as he lets go of Peter’s cock and tugs his suit back up his body. Peter’s disappointed huff of breath isn’t lost on him, and he kisses Peter’s cheek. “See you at home, babe.” His faceplate closes so that he can answer the call, and he flies away.

Peter shrugs his suit over his shoulders and pulls his mask back on, adjusting his erection in the suit. He looks down at the puddle on the roof and groans inwardly, shooting a web in the direction of Tony’s place.

—

Later that night, Peter stands in the lab, helping Tony work on the newest version of the Iron Man suit and resisting every urge in his body to excuse himself. He is painfully hard in his jeans, still on edge from earlier, and squirming in his need to pee. He knows that he will feel horrible after he finally gets off, the shame of such a nasty turn-on haunting him in his post orgasm clarity. But he doesn’t have that clarity now. Right now, his head fuzzy with unmet needs and his gut twisting with his urges clawing at him, he simply revels in how good it feels to feel so bad.

Tony tries not to make it obvious that he knows. Peter is clearly trying to hide it, doing his best to keep his voice level and his squirming to a minimum, but he’s not doing a very good job. Tony represses a smirk when Peter actually has to hold himself during a sneeze, his cheeks going pink. He’s not sure if it is out of embarrassment or arousal. Maybe both.

Peter finally complies with his body, edging away from Tony and in the direction of the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Tony says lowly, intercepting Peter and getting in his space. “I was just thinking we take a little break. Did you ever… finish?”

Peter squeaks when Tony accents his question by palming him through his pants. “No, I didn’t…”

“Oh, poor thing.” Tony coos, voice impossibly soft as he drags Peter to his desk in the corner of the room. He sits down in his chair and pulls Peter into his lap, kissing him and petting at his crotch. “Let’s take care of that right now, yeah?”

“Hang on, I need to-“ Peter gasps softly when Tony presses his hand into his stomach.

“I know you do.” Tony says darkly, rubbing his hand over the taut muscles and smiling at Peter’s shaking hands darting down to grip his wrist. “You like the way it feels when you need to go, don’t you?”

“Tony…” Peter whimpers, his muscles feeling fatigued at how hard he is trying to hold it. His skin is hot with arousal and shame, and he feels like he could come on the spot when Tony strokes his cock through his jeans.

Easily popping open the button of Peter’s jeans and unzipping them, Tony presses his lips to Peter’s again. He pulls Peter’s cock through the slit in his underwear, pleased to see the smallest drops of pee dribbling from his slit.

“Shit, shit-!” Peter whimpers, grabbing the head of his cock and squeezing himself shut. “I really need to go, _please_.”

“Go, then.” Tony says, relaxing back in his chair.

“Be right back.” Peter says quickly, whining when Tony grabs him by the hip to keep him from moving away.

“No, go. Here.” Tony demands, still stroking Peter’s cock despite the kid’s hand limiting his mobility.

Peter gaps his mouth, the bolt of arousal that runs through him almost making him lose it. He doesn’t have to be told again, pulling his hand away and allowing his body to naturally lose control. It starts out slow, his body fighting against his relaxing muscles, but soon enough he is relieving himself at full force in Tony’s lap.

Tony watches the fabric of his slacks go darker, humming softly when the wet heat finally seeps through the layers of clothes and dampens his skin beneath. He points Peter’s cock higher, allowing the stream of urine to drench his shirt, starting at his stomach and slowly moving up to his chest. He meets Peter’s eyes, dark with lust, and sends him a satisfied smirk. “Do you like the way it feels to need to go, or do you like the way it feels to lose control?”

“Yes.” Peter croaks. “And I like the way it feels to go where I shouldn’t. I hate it.” Peter looks down at himself when his body finally has nothing left to give, his stomach flaring with arousal.

Tony quirks his brows. “You hate it?”

Peter nods. “It’s fucking gross. I don’t know why it makes me so…” Peter trails off, glaring at his erection in Tony’s hand.

Tony uses his free hand to direct Peter’s fingers to his crotch, his own erection printing against the fabric. “I don’t think it’s gross.”

Peter wets his lips. Tony’s validation takes away enough of his guilt for him to crush their lips together, moving his hands to feel over his soaked torso.

Tony starts to jerk Peter off in earnest, smiling against Peter’s open mouth when he sobs. He is a bit surprised when Peter suddenly chokes on a cry, and hot gushes of Peter’s release is landing over his stomach.

“Sorry, sorry.” Peter pants, blushing. “I was already kinda on edge and then you let me… do that… and I just couldn’t hold-“

“You’re fine.” Tony says firmly, pressing a kiss to Peter’s lips. “How about we get a shower, and you can return the favor?”

Peter smiles sheepishly, edging out of Tony’s lap to land on his knees. He grabs Tony’s belt, teasing the leather through the buckle. “Why don’t I return it now, _then_ we shower?”

Tony swallows dryly, grabbing Peter’s hair as his cock is pulled into Peter’s mouth. “That sounds like a great idea.”


End file.
